His Heart Where She Could See It
by Pinkchick
Summary: Hermione Granger had always known that Ron Weasley wore his heart out on his sleeve. Or, to be more exact, in his eyes. RHr.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the wonderful world of _Harry Potter_. I just like to write fan fictions about it!

**Author's Note:**A big thank you goes out to my wonderful beta, **PigWithHair**!I hope you all enjoy the story!

_This is for anyone who's ever lost a loved one…_

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**His Heart Where She Could See It**

**By: Pinkchick**

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She had always known his eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue she had ever seen. Ron's eyes were that of a clear and open sea: intense and crashing with changing waves of emotion. They could be as clear as the morning sky or as dark as the dusk pulling into the horizon.

Hermione Granger had always known that Ron Weasley wore his heart out on his sleeve. Or, to be more exact, in his eyes. Ron's eyes were more than windows to his soul.

Sometimes, she would catch Ron watching her with such an intensity that Hermione would have to look away and blush.

Ron's lopsided grin, which Hermione loved so dearly, always reached his eyes. They would crinkle in amusement. When he would frown, his eyes seemed to be pulled down by his mouth. Anytime Ron was happy, they would sparkle like a kid on Christmas day.

Hermione also knew that Ron could never properly hide what he was feeling. It was rare to ever even see his eyes devoid and blank. But, that was how she came to find Ron late one night. It had been a couple of weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. Soon, she was planning to take the trip to Australia to set her parents right. Ron, of course, would be going with her after clearly leaving her no room to argue with him. Hermione shook her head; and he called her stubborn.

She was staying with him at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had insisted as well. To be completely honest, she had nowhere to go anyway. Her parents were no longer in Britain and the Weasleys had always treated her as one of their own. Hermione found herself blinking back tears. She would not cry. She would find her parents soon enough. Right now, she had more pressing matters to deal with.

For the past two weeks, Ron had been trying to act as casual as possible. Granted, his talking had definitely died down a bit. He would look somewhat lost as he passed his brothers' old room. In fact, Hermione realized, Ron had barely spoken two words to George ever since Fred's funeral a week ago.

Hermione marveled at her boyfriend. At that word, she smiled. Yes, she and Ron were far past being just best friends ever since the battle. Honestly speaking, their relationship had been growing since the end of sixth year, but it was finally official.

Ron was sitting in the field behind the Burrow, staring straight ahead. The moon's light beat down on his ginger hair, making it glow. The moon was not the only source, however. Surrounding Ron, there were several lanterns charmed to hang in the air. Hermione lit her wand and approached him cautiously. If Ron had heard her, he did not make a show of it.

The grass swayed around her, and the twigs crunched beneath her. Hermione looked around, wondering whether the garden gnomes were really asleep. She knew what he was staring at before she got near enough to see. Hermione finally sat down next to him and read the words written on the headstone.

_Fred Weasley_

_1978-1998_

_A right laugh_

Hermione smiled. The last line was courtesy of George. If anything described Fred Weasley, it was that one phrase. Mrs. Weasley had burst into tears after George had inscribed those words. Hermione sighed with a heavy heart and chanced a glance at Ron.

His eyes were blank and seemed to stare at nothing. But, Hermione knew his eyes were transfixed to Fred's grave. She had comforted him at the funeral as he cried silently into her shoulder, her own tears falling unabashed.

True, Hermione did not know what it was truly like to lose a brother, a piece of one's own flesh and blood. It was also true that Hermione had not known Fred as long as Ron had. And even though she had often given Fred and George a lecture about their Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products, that did not mean she did not like them and respect them as human beings. To Hermione, they were practically family.

It broke her heart to see Ron's usual vibrant eyes so dull. He seemed to be in a trance. It looked to Hermione that the shock of it all had not worn off. She scooted closer to him, feeding off of his warmth in the cool summer air. Ron had his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them protectively. Hermione did not know what to say, so she stayed silent.

They sat in silence for so long that it felt like an eternity. Finally, Ron spoke two words that froze the night air.

"He's gone."

"I know," said Hermione sadly, resting her hand on his forearm. He did not pull away, and for that, Hermione was grateful.

"He's really gone." Ron shuddered as he breathed.

Hermione could only nod, hearing the vulnerability in his voice.

"When you kissed my cheek the other day, you left a mark," Ron began quietly. Hermione blushed. She had been wearing lipstick that day.

Ron turned his neck slightly and gazed at her with so much intensity. With his right hand, he took Hermione's smaller one in his, placing it on his knee. Then, Ron covered it with his own and lay his chin on top. Hermione could feel the warm skin of his wrist, his pulse beating in time with hers. "I half expected Fred to come out from nowhere and take the mickey out of me," Ron half laughed. It sounded hollow to Hermione. "He never did."

Hermione bit her lip. She would not cry. She couldn't.

"He never will," said Ron sadly. His breath shuddered again, eyes locked on the grave in front of him. "I can't even face George. Every time I do, I keep expecting Fred to come out from behind or something. My own brother, Hermione, and I can't face him."

"It'll just take some time," said Hermione reassuringly.

"It's not right," continued Ron, as though he had not heard Hermione, "for him to be this alone. I didn't know... I never thought…. He's gone." His voice broke then and he turned away from her, wiping his nose on the shoulder of his shirt. He sniffed and muttered, "so stupid."

Hermione willed herself to stay composed. After all, Ron needed her. With her free hand, she touched her fingertips to Ron's chin and turned him around to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery. Another piece of Hermione's heart broke. Ron looked so defeated, so shocked, so… pained.

"Ron Weasley, you are _not_ stupid," stated Hermione. "I wish you'd stop calling yourself that. It's completely normal to feel this way. Fred was your brother."

Ron seemed to cringe when Hermione said the word 'was'. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, tracing small circles across his back like he had done for her at Dumbledore's funeral. She let a tear trail down her cheek. That memory seemed so long ago. She felt she had lived a lifetime since then.

Ron could only nod at her words, his thumb stroking her hand as it lay underneath his.

"Can you imagine how George must feel?" Ron asked.

"Lonely," Hermione answered.

"Yeah, lonely," repeated Ron. "I just don't understand why it had to be Fred."

Hermione did not know what to say to that. She pondered the thought and then said, "It was a war, Ron. It could've been any of us." Hermione almost felt guilty saying that. She had liked Fred and they got on well most times, but it could have just as easily been Ron. The only boy —no, Ron was a man now — she had ever loved, lying dead on the ground. Hermione shuddered at the thought.

"I know," said Ron, swallowing hard. "I would've been a complete wreck if —" he stopped, seeming too afraid to say any more. Hermione's eyes pierced his own. "— well, if something'd happened to you."

"I imagine I would've been the same," agreed Hermione, squeezing his hand.

"Does that make me a bad person?" Ron asked softly. Hermione gave him a quizzical look. "To mourn Fred, but be glad that it wasn't you."

Hermione's chin quivered. Her eyes swam with tears until they leaked from her eyes. "Oh, Ron, of course that doesn't make you a bad person." She slipped her hand from his to give him a proper hug. Ron buried his head into the crook of her neck. Hermione could feel his breath and tears trailing her neck. "Fred wouldn't want you to think that about yourself, and nor do I. I'm glad it wasn't you, either."

Hermione cried then. Her body quivered as her sobs filled the air. She was more than glad she had not lost Ron. That had always been one of her biggest fears. Ending the war had always been a hopeful glance at a future. Having Hermione dream of a future without Ron in it was just unimaginable. Ron stroked her hair and kissed his tears off of the inside of her neck. Hermione shivered at his touch. After a few moments, they let go of each other. Hermione sniffed rather loudly and Ron immediately produced a handkerchief. She laughed then and blew into it.

"It's strange, though," said Ron thoughtfully. One of his arms was still firmly wrapped around Hermione, while the other held her hand.

"What is?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Referring to Fred in past tense," Ron replied. "It's just… strange, is all."

Hermione did not reply, she just snuggled closer to Ron and breathed in his scent. In turn, he squeezed her to him more tightly, putting his head on top of hers and kissing her hair.

"I'll talk to George tomorrow," said Ron quietly, more to himself than to Hermione.

"He'd like that," Hermione assured. "And at least now your mum'll be able to tell them apart."

Ron laughed softly. "Don't be silly, Hermione. She was always able to tell them apart. They just liked winding her up," he explained. "Although, once George lost an ear…. Well, 'smuch easier after that, it was."

Hermione smiled and looked up at him tenderly. Ron smiled back at her. Hermione was grateful for that smile even if it did not reach his eyes. They sat there for a few more moments, immersed in their own thoughts. As they got up to leave, Ron glanced a last time at his brother's grave. Hermione thought she heard him whisper a "goodnight" before turning back to look at her.

Hermione searched Ron's eyes as he took her hand. Ron's eyes were no longer devoid of emotion, but rather bursting with it. His eyes were dark with the pain and devastation of losing a loved one; but they were also relieved. Yes, Hermione decided, Ron had always worn his heart where she could always read it. And she knew he always would.


End file.
